THE LIFE OF BOX

once upon a time there was a box, and its name was box. box liked to enjoy the simpler things in life, like going on walks or watching the sun set. "hello, i'm am a box," it said whenever someone approached it.
"hello how was your day?"
"hello i'm am a box"
"the weather's so beautiful today. i wish it could stay like this temperature forever.
"hello i'm am a box" (translation: yes, that would be nice, yet however, we would forget to appreciate the beauty of winter days and summer nights and the breathtaking monsoon season and the aweinspiring dry season...)
the person who thought it was a good idea to apporach it would walk away. box didn't care, as it liked to spend its free time with itself, yet decade after decade and it started to feel more insecure.....
"hello am i a box?"
the doubt was settling into box. was it really a box? or just a cube? strange philisophical questions filled its head as it went on its nightly walk through the forest. where was all this coming from? why was box acting this way? perhaps the world had finally broke him.
"box i'm hello am a"
then, suddenly, like a great waterfall as it stared into the moon, the revelation all came to it. the moon was really a giant reflective rock in space, a satellite, and a celestial body at the same time. but it was yet a moon. yes, perhaps box itself is a cube, or a container, or yet a square! and yet it is a box at the same time, like infinitves dancing through the sky like the aurora borealis, the northern lights, a fantastical natural phenomenon.
"hello i'm am a box, and a cube, and a container, and a square, and a..."
fin